


Haunted

by hinotoriii



Series: Ghosts of Yesterday [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinotoriii/pseuds/hinotoriii
Summary: They were everything to each other, once.Until one day they weren't.





	Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> I tripped, fell into Reaper76 hell and now I can't leave ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> A prompt fill for the following starter: 
> 
> _"If we die, I'm going to spend the rest of our afterlife reminding you that this was all your fault."_  
>  _"That's cool. I wouldn't mind having company with a ghost."_

**I know if I'm haunting you,**

**You must be haunting me.  
**  

* * *

  
Gabriel finds him battered, bruised and bloody amongst the ruins of the old building. It's the colour of Jacks' uniform mixed amongst dust that manages to stand out; that and the familiar shape of his arm struggling to push aside some of the rubble that had managed to fall over his body. The movement has Gabriel feeling as if he is a man who has finally learnt to breathe again; hand reaching up to press a finger firmly against his earpiece as he rushes over to help.

"I've found him, Amari. Have a medic ready on standby."

Gabriel listens long enough to hear Ana's quick response. As soon as she's finished he's reached the rest of the distance to Jack, quickly aiding to help lift the debris away.

"Come on, sunshine. Let's get you free."

The rubble Jack had been battling is moved aside, allowing more room for him to move and for the both of them to work with the effort of pulling. This close up Gabriel notes how Jack's usual bright head of hair is dulled by a mixture of dust and dirt, a few streaks of blood stretching their way towards the front from an open cut close to his hairline.

"You really took the brunt of things this time, didn't you?" Gabriel asks, carefully guiding Jack further out of the mess. "What even _happened?_ "

He hears Jack let out a sound, something between a huff of laughter and a hiss of pain. One of his arms are broken, along with what he expects are a few of Jack's ribs, and Gabriel's convinced that once he tries to get him standing he'll find Jack's likely gone and done something to his leg too.

"Bastion units," Jack replies - and this time the pain he feels is evident from the strain worn against his tired smile. "Didn't think there were any in this area, but our intel was proven wrong. Did the rest of my team make it out?"

"A few causalities, but yeah. They're otherwise safe and made it to the rendezvous point. Just your idiot ass that didn't." Gritting his own teeth, Gabriel finally gets Jack free. "You've got to stop playing the hero when I'm not around to have your six, Jack. Even super soldiers like us have our limitations."

"I keep you on your toes, don't I?"

The words are accompanied by an intake of breath, Jack's face scrunching up slightly. Gabriel carefully manoeuvres Jack's good arm to rest around his shoulders, and afterwards wraps an arm of his own securely around Jack's middle.

"I won't give you the satisfaction of answering that. On the subject of toes though, you think you can walk?"

The answer comes before Jack even voices it. Together they take a shaky step forward, yet as soon as Jack puts weight on his left leg he stumbles and lets out a sharp yelp of pain.

" _Fuck,_ " Jack manages to hiss. Gabriel's hold steadies him, managing to stop him from crumbling to the ground. He pulls Jack closer against his side, supporting his weight as he lets Jack lean slightly against him.

"Thought so," Gabriel says, shaking his head while he thinks. Of course getting Jack safely back to the rendezvous point was never going to be _easy_. "We'll have to take it slow. One step at a time."

"And hope no more surprises are waiting to ambush us?" jokes Jack, making Gabriel let out a grunt.

"You never do make things easy."

After stopping briefly to pick up Jack's pulse rifle they make their way through the littered streets and crumbled debris. Jack limps but complains little, despite the pain Gabriel knows he's in. He doesn't need to listen to the sharp intakes of breath or the hisses that pass Jack's lips to understand; after all this time he knows Jack better than anyone else - probably even better than he knows himself. Instead Gabriel works on stamping down on his own worry for him, telling himself that everything would be alright, just as long as they got Jack to safety.

Gabriel glances towards Jack briefly, noticing how his eyelids seem to be growing heavy as he battles against the weight of exhaustion.

"You remember what I said to you before we set out on this mission?" Gabriel asks, knowing it was best to keep Jack talking until someone was able to look over him. He thinks he hears Jack let out a huff of laughter, and as he shoots another glance at him out of the corner of his eye he can see how a little smile tugs against Jack's lips.

"You told me we were both stupid for agreeing to this harebrained plan. _Then_ after that you told me that if we both died, you'd spend the rest of our afterlife constantly reminding me that it was all my fault for convincing you we should go in the first place."

"The offer still stands Jack," says Gabriel. "We may have got lucky this time, but I plan to haunt the shit out of you if a future mission ever goes horribly wrong."

"That's cool," Jack replies, his words growing heavier with his tiredness. "I wouldn't mind having your company as a ghost."

Gabriel snorts, rolling his eyes at Jack's terrible humour despite how a small grin of his own appears on his face.

"Yeah well, it won't be for a while, golden boy. We've both got a lot of life in us yet."

 

* * *

 

Jack rarely comes here now.

The grave is old. Lonely, apart from the single wilting rose that rests against the tombstone. He focuses on the words engraved there and allows himself for a rare, vulnerable moment to loose himself fully to memories of the past lifetime he's since left behind.

"This was when everything really fell apart, wasn't it?" Jack asks, his voice sounding strange from beneath the mask he now wears. "I mean, things were already crumbling beforehand, but this ... this was the catalyst."

He doesn't turn or look, not as he feels the breeze beside him. Jack doesn't need verification, he already knows who the dark cloud is.

"It only became one because you didn't _care_."

The tombstone, along with Reaper's words are like messengers, sending a lump of guilt which falls heavily within the pit of Jacks gut. It's as if Reaper speaks his most intimate of fears, reminders of the greatest of failures Jacks made in his lifetime.

_Here lies Gerard Lacroix. Beloved husband, soldier, and friend._

"I still remember that day. You said he was expendable, that all soldiers know their worth and the risks they face. But there didn't have to be a risk with his life, did there? Not if you'd have just let Blackwatch do their job."

Jack's hand tightens, the material of the glove covering it stretching with the strain. Reapers taunting voice continues, the form his body takes becoming slightly smokier than it had before.

"Should I mention Amélie? She wasn't even a soldier, but a civilian. Someone who Overwatch should have protected. Instead she became a weapon." There's a brief pause, before Jack hears Reaper letting out a low, cruel laugh to himself. "You are _good_ at setting people down the path of becoming weapons, aren't you?'

"Gabriel -" Jack began, the intended warning clear. Reaper ignores it. Instead fury grows as he crowds closer to Jack, stepping before him. Even with the stark white mask covering his features Jack can make out the dark red glare from his eyes, can imagine the way his mouth has curled into a vicious snarl.

"You don't _get_ to call me that. You lost that right years ago, back when you left me to _die_."

"I _didn't_ leave you to die," Jack quickly shoots back.

"You might as well have. It's because of you that I'm _this_ now."

"If you believe that, then why are you even here?" Asks Jack. There's something like irritation laced within his words, but truthfully Jack just feels a tiredness that aches down to his very bones. This routine is expected, a dance they've played on many a battlefield, upon many an unexpected reunion. It never stops hurting though. Jack never stops feeling the sharp stab of pain at the betrayal he hears hidden within Reapers words.

Reaper doesn't respond. He takes a slow step backwards, anger still evident from his smoky appearance. Jack watches as he looks towards the tombstone, and he half expects Reaper is using it as some sort of anchor for himself.

"You may not want to be Jack Morrison anymore, but that doesn't erase the past. I remember. I'll always remember your mistakes. Gerard. Amélie. Ana. Every single thing you neglected, ignored or left unnoticed while you went and played the role of the perfect boy scout. And I won't let you forget them. I want you to remember _everything_ that was lost."

“Are you done?”

Reapers’ taunts are things Jack does not need to hear. Not because they’re untrue, but rather the opposite. They are the plague of thoughts which stay with Jack always, digging their sharp claws deeply into his memories. He can barely sleep from the reminders they bring, the nightmares of Jack's’ many perceived failures.

No, Jack doesn’t need Reaper to verbalise them for him. Just the very presence of what has become of the man that had once been his everything is enough to set his stomach stirring with both anger and guilt.

“I know where you’re planning to head to next,” says Reaper, breaking the long moment of silence which had grown between the two of them. Jack ever so slightly tilts his head towards the voice, pulling himself out of his own mind as Reaper continues. “Don’t bother.”

“And why would I decide to listen to you?” Jack asks. He notices the slight one shouldered shrug Reaper gives as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll be forced to put a bullet in your brain.”

“So why not just do it now and get it over with? Save us both the trouble.”

Laughter comes from where Reaper stands, the sound of it sending a shiver down Jack's spine. His form grows smokier, making it less clear to see the shape of the person who had been present only moments ago. Jack knows it means he’s leaving him alone once again.

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of such an easy way out.”

Reaper's gone not long after the words are spoken, tendrils of black smoke curling in the air before they too fade. It's only then that Jack finally lets out the heavy sigh he's been holding back, staring towards the tombstone again. 

He doesn't realise that lingering in the shadows a little ways away, a familiar phantom continues to watch him.


End file.
